One (2)

Chance woke up on a Thursday. That was reasonable enough: yesterday was Wednesday, tomorrow Friday.

Thursday seemed the right place to be.

He stretched his trim body with a small yawn, fingers brushing the doorframe as he walked to his antechamber. His clothes were already selected and neatly placed on a low table against one wall. They fit him perfectly, breathable fabrics designed for the maximum of comfort. They didn’t last long, but Chance didn’t know that: if they started to look abraded or worn, they were replaced. He had never worn anything of a lower quality to compare them to.

Looking over the itinerary that lay next to his clothes, he saw that Swimming would start the day, then breakfast; Tennis before lunch; then he had to fast, as it was his birthday. Everyone fasted on their birthday, to focus the mind for meditation and contemplation, which meant he got to skip classes this afternoon.

Chance felt himself blushing slightly – when he considered any big events from the recent past, a particular face came to mind and stayed. He had known Fortune all his life, of course, but things had become… different between them. He had looked at her one day while they walked to class, and she quickly looked down and away, and smiled. Why that smile made his heart stop at that moment, after he had seen it so many times, he had no idea. But there it was. Her skin was dark, far darker than his own, but now he saw it in startling contrast to the whites of her eyes, the white of her teeth: and it was beautiful.

So much so, apparently, that he forgot how to walk.

He had caught himself mid-stumble; and when Fortune asked if he was okay and lightly touched his arm, he found he couldn’t speak anymore, either. So he nodded, and she laughed, and when she stopped laughing everything was different and he didn’t know how.

With an effort, he brought his mind back to the present and headed for the pool, grabbing a towel that was hung for him by the door.

In the hall, he saw Lucky standing in the doorway of his own apartment and nodded a greeting. Lucky didn’t notice, so Chance stopped in front of him.

“Hey, are you okay?” Now Lucky looked up, blinking.

“I’m not sure…” It was Chance’s turn to blink.

“Well, do you have time to come swimming?” he asked.

“Mm, no: I’ve got track first thing…” His voice drifted off as he stood in thought. Chance waited.

“Don’t you think you should go, then?” he asked. Lucky didn’t laugh.

“Yeah. Yeah, I suppose I should.”

“See you around, then?” No response. “Lucky? Racquetball later or something?”

“Yeah," said Lucky. "Yeah.”

Chance left him standing in the doorway.

The pool had long been one of his favourite places. When he was suffering growing pains, the pressure of the water eased his aching joints and muscles. The pains passed, and his time swimming changed from providing relief to pleasure, the joy of movement propelling him through the buoyant medium. An hour later, his thoughts were on breakfast, and the quiet hope that Fortune would be there.

She wasn’t, but Professor Jan was. Chance liked Professor Jan fine, but preferred talking to Doctor Hoggestrom. He was friendlier. She sat with Chance in the cafeteria, keeping her clipboard on her lap.

“Good morning, Chance.”

“Morning, Professor Jan.”

“I just wanted to remind you that you’ll have to –“

“Fast after lunch, yeah I know. Thanks for the reminder, though.”

“You’re welcome. So how are you feeling?” That was why he didn’t like Doctor Jan, he thought: she always asks that.

“Doin’ good,” he replied.

“Did the swim go well?”

“Yep.” He waited as long as she did.

“Sleep…?”

“Sleeping good.”

“No growing pains at all?” He sighed loudly. “Look Chance, I know this seems nosy, but we want to make sure you’re completely healthy, okay?”

“What would you have done if I didn’t come to the cafeteria?” She laughed.

“I would’ve been surprised! A growing boy uses a lot of energy, and you would have been awfully hungry tonight.”

“Not much of a boy,” he retorted, “I’m taller than you.”

“That’s not saying much! Just about all you kids are.” She laughed again, and Chance felt a bit better about her. “Okay, I’m going to leave you alone to finish your breakfast. See you tonight for your birthday.” Mouth full, he gave her a wave as she left. She was certainly right about using up energy, though: he was definitely going to need a second tray of food this morning. Curious, he looked around at the others eating at the same time. Most had been sitting there for half an hour or more, and many of those were on second servings. He looked again at his own tray and wondered how the food piled onto it ever fit into his frame: there couldn’t be that much room, could there?

“Me too,” said Lucky sitting down across the table. Chance swallowed.

“You too, what?”

“Wonder why they don’t just give us bigger trays. Saw you shaking your head there.” Chance pointed a thumb at a table of much smaller kids than himself.

“It’s so the First Years don’t eat themselves sick, probably.”

“Ah, the mites don’t need food: all they ever do is walk around looking stunned anyway. Hey you gonna finish that?” Chance held his fork in a downward grip and growled. “Is that a no?”

“Piss off," said Chance. "You’ve got a full plate in front of you.”

“Oh, like that’ll last me,” Lucky grumbled, starting to eat. Chance thought about something.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. Lucky looked around the table.

“Professor Jan leave her notebook behind?” he asked innocently.

“Cute, but when I saw you this morning, you looked, I dunno, preoccupied.”

Lucky waved it off.

“Just having a brain cramp. I had a bad dream, didn’t quite shake it off by the time I got to the door.” Chance nodded. Sometimes that happened to him too. Lucky stopped eating for a moment. “Say, why is it when some bad guy threatens some good guy in a story, or vise versa, the say ‘I’m your worst nightmare’, but never mention actual nightmares? I mean, my worst nightmare is falling face down onto a bed of sharpened pencils, not some lunk with a gun. How about you?”

“I don’t remember my dreams,” Chance lied. His worst dreams were in fact being chased by men with guns, but he wasn’t telling Lucky that. His best featured soft, brown skin, but he wasn’t telling Lucky that, either.

“Nice for you, I guess. It probably means I’m scared of tests or writing or something. Not too far off, that. What you got this evening?”

“I don’t, it’s my birthday.” Chance stood and picked up his now empty tray.

“Right, right; the week before mine. I keep forgetting you’re an old codger.”

“Respect your elders, junior,” Chance said, heading back to the food line.

He saw Fortune going to her Music class while he was on his way to Tennis. He felt his throat constrict, stopping either breath or blood from getting any further down his body than his neck. She hopped over to where he stood, smiling that huge, dazzling smile she had.

“Hi,” she said, grinning up at him. “What are you so happy about?” He realised that his face was mimicking hers.

“You’re here,” he said in a thankfully normal voice. Fortune’s mouth dropped open and her eyes got even wider for a second, then she looked down and away, covering her mouth with one hand. She looked back at him and used both hands to hold her clarinet case.

“So,” she said, “are you going to walk me to class?” How, he wondered, could eyes so dark be so bright?

“Oh, yes,” he replied. They didn’t speak at all until she walked into her class with a simple “bye”, but half way there, she leaned against him while they walked. He could have picked her up and flown the rest of the way.

The rest of the day passed in a light delirium – he remembered that there was a tennis court, and instructions, and an instructor, but the rest…? Actually, he remembered Mister Lemke being frustrated with his play, then angry for a bit. He pulled Chance off the court and asked him what was wrong with his concentration, and Chance started with “I don’t know” and ended up talking who knows how long about Fortune. Mister Lemke looked at him funny and sent him to lunch early.

Doctor Hoggestrom can personally to bring Chance to the meditation room. They talked as the two of them walked.

“How are you today, Chance?” Why did all the doctors start with the same question?

“Fine,” he said, meaning it. “Hey, Doctor Hoggestrom?” The older man raised an eyebrow. He had allowed Chance to call him “Doc” for the past year, but somehow it didn’t seem right to call him that just now.

“Yes, Chance?” They walked in silence for a bit while Chance looked at his shoes.

“Do you know Fortune?” Stupid question, thought Chance: Doc knew everybody in the building. It wasn’t what he wanted to ask, of course. What he wanted to ask was What do you know about Fortune, because I want to know everything there is about her.

“I do,” came the measured reply, “Lovely girl. A friend of yours, I understand?” It was asked so lightly and casually that Chance forgot to blush.

“She’s amazing,” he said. There was more silence as his thoughts left his mouth far behind.

“Her birthday’s today too, you know,” Doc said. Chance snapped out of his reverie. How could he have forgotten? They noticed that two years ago, when they first met. “If you’d like, I could arrange for the both of you to take meditation together today.”

“Really? That would be great!” Doc nodded and chuckled at the young man’s enthusiasm.

“So long as she wants to, of course, it shouldn’t be a problem. Now slow down; I’ve got my dignity to protect. I can’t be seen running through the halls, you know.”

The meditation room was just like he remembered it: the green cement walls; the machine to measure his breathing and heart rate; the meditation facilitator with his tank of gas; the bright bank of lights overhead; the window to Doctor Hoggestroms observation room. The only difference this time was that in addition to the moveable benches and rolling trays there was a second table, and sitting on it in her light fabric robe was Fortune. He smiled, and she smiled back, so he went to her and held her hands.

“This is different from every other year, huh?” she said.

“I like the change,” he said.

“Third time’s the charm.” The voice of Doctor Hoggestrom filled the room from a hidden announcer.

“Lie down on the table, please, Chance.” There was a chuckle. “Make sure it’s your own.”

“Doc!” cried Fortune in delighted outrage. Chance grinned and went to his table. Lying back, he looked over at Fortune as the meditation facilitator placed a mask over her mouth and nose.

“See you in a few hours,” he said. She waved, and he waved back.

“Face up, please,” said the man, who then put a mask onto Chance. “Okay, you’ll hear a hissing noise, and then I’d like both of you to count backwards from ten. Ready?” Chance nodded, and he guessed Fortune nodded too, because soon he heard the hiss, and he started to count. He also heard a few seconds of Docs voice:

“This is Doctor Hoggestrom. The time is 1904 hours. Subjects 2410C and 2415D being sedated now, no known complications and none predicted. Two teams to be led by Doctors Bowen and Tharmandran, harvesting procedure to begin in thirty seconds…”

Chance was dreaming of soft, dark skin.

Next Chapter: One (3)